


Love

by pepsicola



Category: South Park
Genre: Late Night Conversations, M/M, talking like a lunatic when youre tired af, thanksgiving break bc i love it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-13 17:43:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21497992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepsicola/pseuds/pepsicola
Summary: Eric wondered if Butters was even aware of what he was saying. He saw somewhere that people tended to be more honest when they were tired.
Relationships: Eric Cartman/Butters Stotch
Comments: 9
Kudos: 36





	Love

Snow outside the window drifted down to the concrete driveway below. Eric watched it fall from the small gap between the drawn curtains. The outside world was dark with the effects of midnight, but the quiet room was cast in a soft orange glow by the string of lights hung up above the windows.

Eric had been genuinely surprised when Butters’ parents had nothing to say when Butters brought him home after they’d spent the day hanging out at the abandoned drive-in together. Usually, Butters would have to sneak Eric in.

It was the second day of Thanksgiving break. Eric felt like it had taken too long to arrive. Eighth grade was taking its sweet time to end.

Butters had his head on Eric’s chest. His eyes were drooping, and his breathing was growing deeper. The warmth of Butters’ room and the softness of Butters’ extra winter blankets were threatening to lull Eric to sleep too, but he fought it off better than Butters.

The only reason Eric knew Butters was still awake was by the occasional twitch of his fingers when he shifted his hand higher up Eric’s chest. He did it now, moving his hand all the way up to Eric’s shoulder.

When Butters spoke, his words were slurred with tiredness. “Can you turn off the light?”

Eric reached to switch off the lights. The room fell to darkness.

“Thank you.”

Eric felt Butters’ lips press to his jaw in a sleepy kiss. Eric was suddenly glad it was too dark for Butters to see the color rising to his face.

Butters asked, “You’re ‘na have Thanksgivin’ with your family tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” Eric answered.

Butters said, “Do you have turkey every year? There was this one year we didn’t have one. We had chicken instead. It wasn’t the same.”

Eric chuckled. “Thanksgiving isn’t Thanksgiving without turkey. Or stuffing.”

He felt Butters smile. “Exactly.”

He was talking nonsense because he was half asleep. This wasn’t the first night Eric had spent with Butters, and he knew that Butters tended to babble himself to sleep. He’d be in the middle of a sentence, and all of a sudden, he’d go quiet, and Eric would realize he’d fallen asleep. It was an amusing, childlike quality of his.

“What’re you thankful for?” Butters whispered.

Eric said, “I’m thankful eighth grade isn’t hard so far, but it’s only November, so I don’t wanna jinx it.”

Butters hummed. “I’m thankful that I get to have this secret little thing with you.”

The heat in Eric’s ears flared hotter. Embarrassed, he admitted quietly, “I’m thankful for that too.”

Butters giggled faintly. His voice was faded like he was about to drop off. He murmured, “Would you be mad if I told you I love you?”

Eric felt his heart plummet. He was barefoot under the mound of blankets, but his toes went cold.

Never, not since that time in fourth grade, had Butters and Eric said the L word to each other. They had yet to admit it. Eric wondered if Butters was even aware of what he was saying. He saw somewhere that people tended to be more honest when they were tired. He didn’t know if it was true, but it felt true. Whether it was or not, Eric did his best to shut his mouth whenever he felt that familiar heaviness weighing on his body because he was afraid of saying something nobody should know. There were plenty of late night conversations he shared with Butters long before they started dating three months ago when Eric would tell him things he never meant to say.

The very word—L-O-V-E—brought along Eric’s fight or flight instincts, and he had more of the urge to flee. The word, the emotion, the action: it felt all too permanent and too unpredictable. It unsettled Eric.

Though Eric had a million more thoughts whizzing through his head, he chose to answer Butters’ question with a question of his own, “Why would I be mad?”

Around a yawn, Butters said, “ ‘Cause you’re always mad bout trivial things.”

Eric huffed in mild offense. He wanted to tell Butters that the L word was no trivial thing. And he  _ was not  _ always mad about trivial things. When he was mad, he had a good reason.

Butters giggled tiredly. “See what I mean?” he mumbled.

To save face, Eric said too loudly, “No, stupid.”

“Oh,” Butters whispered.

Eric waited for him to say more, to elaborate on his question. He never did.

Eric lifted his hand from where it rested on the center of Butters’ back. Hesitantly, he lowered it to Butters’ head. Butters said nothing. He was asleep.

Eric didn’t know how to feel. He was frustrated Butters had fallen asleep in the middle of their conversation. He was afraid to wake him and have him keep mentioning the L word. He was relieved he wouldn’t bring it up any longer. Butters would probably have no recollection of it in the morning anyway, so there was no point in digging for answers.

Now that Butters was sleeping peacefully, Eric had no one to talk to. Fighting sleep would pose a tougher challenge.

Eric laid still, listening to the slow pace of Butters’ breathing. He couldn’t get his mind off of Butters’ question. He tried to block it off. He didn’t  _ want  _ to know if Butters loved him or not. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Butters didn’t. Eric hated how much he cared about him. It was soul-crushing for all the wrong reasons.

As if on cue, Butters rolled off Eric and onto the pillows.

Eric curled up on his side, facing Butters.  _ Does he love me?  _ he thought to himself.  _ Or was he just asking a hypothetical question? _

Eric  _ felt  _ tired, but his mind wouldn’t let him go to sleep. What a creep he was to be watching Butters sleep.

He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself unconscious.

He was about to turn the other way when a sigh that sounded like his name left Butters. Eric’s eyes snapped open. His breath hitched. His heartbeat sped up. He froze as he tried to watch if Butters was awake.

Butters’ eyes moved beneath his eyelids. He was still sleeping. He was dreaming.

Eric relaxed, quietly exhaling in relief. He decided to remain facing Butters. Like he could read Eric’s thoughts, Butters shifted closer until he was pressed up against him.

Eric closed his eyes, feeling his pounding heart return to a normal rate. He could tell he was finally near sleep. He wondered if Butters was dreaming of him, and he wondered if he would dream of Butters.


End file.
